Kangaroos and Mint Bunnies
by Tea-and-scone-alliance
Summary: Set in the year 1773, Arthur Kirkland or otherwise known as Britain has left to visit his new found country New Holland. Rumors are spreading about a young boy who has been seen wandering around the new land. Will this lead him to a new friendship? Or will his heart be broken yet again? Hetalia Axis Powers, England and Australia. Historically accurate. DISCONTINUED...I apologize
1. The New World

**A/N Hi Guys this is my first ever fanfic so I am so excited to be able to start writing this! I came up with the idea the other day when I was talking to my Australian friend. She was talking about how england claimed australia and she needed some help for this history exam so I helped her and I gathered all my information and tadaa this happened! I wanted to start of with something cute and sweet so here you guys are!**

**Don't be shy and review please! I am always gonna need it! Love LK **

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**Chapter 1 The New world:**

January 21st 1773

As the large ship gently but swiftly rocked back and forth from the oceans currents, the sea's salty air-filled the ship from bow to stern as it finally reached the back of the ship and swept my scruffy and messy light golden locks up into the air that were now coloured in a bright blinding orange as the dawn rose early in the morning.

The ship was called the Moaning Lady and for quite a reason too, most of the ship was filled with convicts ready to be taken over to the new world. Most convicts had tried to jump ship but had failed before one of the beastly (and abnormally large) crewmen had grabbed him from the nape of his neck and tossed him back with the others with hardly any effort at all.

I am only here for discovery. Three and a half years ago to date I had only discovered that a captain named by the name of Cook had discovered another side to the new-found land of New Holland. Naturally we wanted to claim what rightfully belonged to the Great British Empire and through all the arguing and bickering we were able to claim the east side of New Holland in 1770.

My name is Arthur Kirkland or I am also known as The Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland but I do prefer something a bit more proper and less forward so you shall call me as Britain. I had to escape all the madness between Europe and Northern America. I swear I sometimes wonder why I let that brat America even stay with me; lately he has been quite the rabble-rouser. So I had decided to take a break and journey to the newly claimed eastern side of New Holland.

The journey was nearly over though it had already taken us roughly three and half years to even make it past halfway point of the journey, slowly I am losing my mind. We were able to make a few stop offs on couple of coastal islands that laid just below the equator I was able to also meet a few of the other countries that I had not acquainted so well such as Indonesia she seems very well, let's say charming, if you could her that way, she provides good trading with the crew and as long as I get my supplies she is fine by me, she can be a bit violent at times but who could blame her with her violent upbringing and all but I shall not get into that.

Along the journey we also struck into the Netherlands, I don't have too much to say about him either well at least not anything good, for you see myself and the Netherlands have argued over the years on who would rightfully claim all of New Holland, I put my pride and my economy on the line just to claim all of New Holland while he on the other hand has saved all of his expenses and half heartily fighting for the new nation. But I shall not continue, but let's just say if I had my way I'd throw him off the ship with all the strength I could muster out of my scrawny, pale body and I would-

Suddenly a large gust of wind blew through the small circular window that was directly beside where he was sitting. The wind wasn't too strong but it still had enough strength in it to blow out the candle that had dripped hot wax onto the worn out wooden desk, he sat there for a moment in the pitch black darkness of the night. Had he lost himself again in his writings? He sighed and thought to himself. "I suppose it's time that I put that blasted quill and notebook and get some well-deserved rest." He spoke with a hint of tiredness and loneliness. All Britain ever wanted was a friend, someone who liked him and he liked back. He remembered the times when he considered America as a friend but now days they seem to be growing apart.

He placed the notebook and quill into a rusted and authentic trunk that was placed in front of the double bed. He stripped out of his worn and dirty clothes and stood there for a moment naked as the moonlight seeped in through the small window which gave his body a fluorescent glow. He felt the moonlight touch his skin and how warm it felt and oh so comforting.

He slowly knelt back down to the trunk that was in front of his bed and took out a plain white night-shirt and slid it over his neck, pushing back the creases that laid in the shirt before they quickly arose again before he had any time to complain he simply gave up and walked over to the left side of the oak wood frame of double bed that appeared to have a few scratches in the frame-work. He gently lifted the covers of the bed and gracefully hoped into the bed.

He stared at the ceiling for a moment, pondering over what was currently happening between Europe and North America. How his stomach was tied in a knot that he wished would just unravel, but besides the worries and concerns for America he was also concerned what he would discover in this new land.

Before he had left for New Holland he had heard rumours from the crew that there was a boy wandering around the country. The descriptions of what the boy looked like were far too vague so he wanted to find out more about this boy. But in the back of his mind fear filled the Brit for he was scared that if he were to claim the boy and raise him as his own, he would turn out just the same as America, all cute and innocent when he was little but had grown into a feral and bold young naïve man.

These thoughts were always swimming through the Brits head, he had tried to block them out with the thought of the country being completely different to America, but in the end he somehow knew that every country he had ever tried to raise would eventually leave him.

He knew that America was planning on leaving him and declaring independence for himself but he couldn't bear the thought. As glassy tears slipped down from the Emerald green eyes of the Brit to his chin he wiped them off and rolled over onto his side burrowing his thick eyebrows into the soft, plump pillow.

He reached over at the empty side of the bed that laid beside him and simply drifted off to sleep, trying his hardest to forget all of his troubles, as the moonlight shined through like a dwindling candle through the open window.


	2. Arthur the Hussy?

**A/N **

**I must warn you this chapter contains swearing and a little sexual action. But other than that it is fine! I got my first review thank you so much! It is always a nice feeling to hear that your is ****appreciated! Ah its really early in the morning 1am to be exact but I couldn't sleep I had to write this! I really can't wait to start writing the next chapter already got it planned out and everything! **

**Reviews? Trust me I need for the support LK!**

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Chapter 2: **Arthur the hussy?**

January 22nd 1773

As the morning slowly crept in through the window that had been left open the night before, a damp and cold feeling shivered up the Brits spine as he slowly awoke. A small and quiet yawn escaped from the Brits mouth as he realized he had left the window open. "Blast." He spoke to himself with anger "I am surprised I have not caught a cold."

He walked over to the window in a huff and attempted to close the window. It was ajar. Now with motivation that shone through his bloodshot emerald eyes as he yet again attempted to pull the window shut forcefully. It still wouldn't budge. With one last attempt he succeeded and shut the window tight before tumbling backwards from the sudden give in the window.

As he got up and brushed off the access dirt from the floor off of his snow white night shirt and walked over to the trunk that still lay in front of his empty double bed. He pulled off the shirt with light effort and placed it back into the chest, over the top of his notebook and quill that still remained in the same place that he placed it the previous night.

He dug around in the chest searching for some decent clothes to wear until he pulled out a plain white long-sleeved shirt that was cuffed at the wrists; he placed a white frilly cravat collar around his neck that seemed to match is white shirt, followed by black trousers that went to his ankles. Finally he placed over the top of his shirt a black vest that seemed to have a few patches of dirt that he oh so desperately had tried to wash out. He then sat down on the bed which had still not been made and placed over the top of his feet two pairs of brown boots.

Before he left the room he quickly but neatly made the bed. He walked past the mirror to quickly adjust his vest before heading outside of his room and onto the deck of the ship. Britain felt so out-of-place on the deck of the ship, he felt as his room was his only sanctuary. As he walked around the deck in the early morning he received a few effortless grunts from a few crewmen as a gesture of hello, but as soon as they grunted they returned to their work of cleaning and maintaining the deck.

Britain being careful where he stepped moved to the middle of the ship for where this was where the mess hall was. Because Britain was seen as a special guest he had all of his daily meals alone which only involved two, breakfast and dinner, but half the time he had skipped out on dinner. He sat down in his usual place right in the middle of the table so that he would not have to talk to anyone who would suddenly burst through the door unexpectedly. He quietly sipped on the freshly traded tea that he had received in Jakarta. The tea warmed up the Brit from the tip of his fingernails to the curled up toes in his boots. After he had finished the tea he picked up the half stale biscuit that lay on the plate. He took one bite out of the biscuit and almost gagged as his gag reflex kicked in.

"Not the most Flavoursome of biscuits are they?" said a voice from behind. He turned around as he took a moment to recognise the man who had just spoken.

"I thought I'd be used to them by now." Britain paused for a moment" But it seems that I haven't. Say how can you stand this horrible disgrace of a biscuit? Riley?" Spoke Britain in calm but humorous matter.

"Let's just say, you tend to enjoy the small amounts of rations you can receive on this hell bound vessel."

Riley was the only man who I had ever considered as a 'friend' on this journey. He was very old considering he was a sailor at the grand old age of 40 and a bulky figure with a few scars here and there and a shaved head. He told me his story on how his grandfather told him that his great great grandfather had fought against the Spanish armada in the year 1602 and how he was lucky to be able to have escaped with his life. He said how he tried his hardest to get into the Royal Navy but they had turned him down too many times. At the age of 22 he decided to change paths of his dream career of being a naval officer to being an Able Body Sailor who was mainly in charge of navigation and steering the ship. He was a lot brighter than any man he had encountered on Moaning Lady, always having a cheerful and sprite attitude to Britain.

Britain chuckled at the light attempt of amusement from the sailor "Tell me Riley how far until we have reached New Holland?" Spoke Britain who was filled with excitement and a bit of anxiety.

"Well, you'll be pleased to hear that the ship will be reaching New Holland in roughly one to two days' time. At the pace the ship is going I'd say maybe one."

"It's going faster than I had ever expected it to go. Say I don't suppose you'd care to-

Britain was cut short as another man set foot into the mess hall, bursting throw the wooden doors creating a rather dramatic entrance into the calm and collective conversation. It was the captain. The one man in charge of the ship was drunk as an Irishman at 8 o'clock in the morning. Britain thought it was an outrageous time to be the town well in this case ship drunkard.

Britain despised the man, when he wasn't drunk and flirting with the crew he would often be cooped up in his room and occasionally yelling at the crew to get back to work when they were in fact actually working unlike their oh so responsible captain.

"Mornin' captin" Riley said pulling a forced smile.

"I dun need your greetins, you fucker. Say who this is hussy. She looks kind of hot. I mean her eyebrows could go with a pluck but hey she ain't that bad of a broad." The captain slurred out just before he vomited all over the wooden planks. The vomit dripped down his chin before he failed at attempting to wipe it off with his forearm.

"I can assure you I am not a broad. I am a British gentleman named by the name as Arthur here to venture to the new found land of New Holland." Spoke Arthur hiding the fact that he was an actual country. The only person on the ship he could trust with this secret was Riley. He didn't want to draw too much attention to himself.

"What you're a gentlemen. Ha!" he chuckled as he spoke "The only gentleman around here is me!" The captain raised his voice before swinging his right arm slowly in for a punch against the Brits face. He easily dodged the slow and uncoordinated attempt of a punch.

"I have no time to deal with this drunk." Britain paused for a moment as he gave the captain a disgusted look as he knitted his eyebrows together. "I am going to go stretch my legs, Riley do make sure our beloved captain over there doesn't try to jump off the ship. He is a waste of space of course but without him we have no hope of docking into Port Jackson." Britain said with sarcasm over the words 'beloved'.

"Ay I can do that." Riley chirped as he led the drunken captain back to his quarters where he remained for the rest of the day.

As hours passed like minutes and before Britain had even realised the sun had already begun dipping itself into the pool of water of which Britain was surrounded in. Hoping for a glimpse of land he sighed and made his way back to his room. Not feeling up to eating tonight knowing that lazy swab named Peter would have left the pile of vomit which was located right next to his favourite spot to sit there and rot.

With nothing better to do he walked back to his cabin, shut the creaky wooden door and pulled out a piece of parchment, quill and a stamp which had his initials engraved in it from the rustic trunk. He then smoothly opened the drawer and pulled out a half empty ink pot along with a wax stick that he placed directly under the candle that sat on the right side of the desk.

He then began writing, this time it wasn't another journal entry instead it was a letter intended to America on which he would send to him once he had reached the shores of New Holland.

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Dear America,

We are only one day away from reaching this newfound land. I was hoping this land could also be a part of the Great British empire, along with yourself and your brother what was his name, I know it started with a C, but none of the less I am hoping to raise this boy just as I did to you and who knows you may be fond of him.

Everyday America I worry about you. My country has been so corrupt lately that I have needed to tax your American settlers. Trust me I do not wish it and I know I have been very harsh on you and for that I must apologize.

Love always Britain.

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As soon as he had finished writing the letter he folded the parchment in half and placed it into the envelope. He folded the seal flap over the top of the envelopes throat. From there he reached over to the semi melted wax stick which he let it drip over the envelopes centre. He then placed the stamp over the hot wax sealing the envelope in such a confidential matter.

He placed all of his writing equipment back to their rightful places and proceeded with the same routine he did as the last night and the night before. Changing out of his used clothes into a new nightshirt, this time it was a faint light green. He yet again gently slid into the left side of the double bed and fell asleep worrying about his beloved America.

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**A/N I got some History for you guys in this one not a lot but here it is.**

**Ok so the reason why England is on a convict ship was because the fact that England was sending over their prisoners to Australia because the cells have become too overcrowded and sickness and pollution was spreading fast**

**America is acting like a total rebel at the moment good for him because the British Empire was increasing taxes to the American settlers and to get revenge on them the americans basically burned a bunch of tea ships in 1773 this was called the Boston Tea Party.**

**Canada was under British rule in the year 1763 after France had given the country over to Britain. **

**The reason why they are docking at a place called Port Jackson because it was the first British area of settlement in Australia so I thought might as well dock there.**

**Oh and just so you know The Moaning Lady isn't a real ship!**

**I really hope you liked this chapter I know I did I liked the 2 OC's and also Sealand! Did anyone notice him? Aw poor Sealand even thought he doesn't exist yet I still wanted him in the story somewhere!**

**Have a good day! See you all next chapter! LK**


	3. Docking at Port Jackson

**A/N Longest Chapter I have written so far! Hello there lovely readers how are you all fairing? I quite enjoyed writing this chapter it has so much stuff in it as I was writing I felt like my brain was going to explode. But it did't and I look at some other Fanfics where the chapters are huge and I am like no sire I ain't doing that! (not yet anyways  
**

**So here you are my lovely readers enjoy! :3**

Chapter 3: **Docking at Port Jackson**

January 23rd 1773

Britain awoke the next morning to find that the ship was already docked in Port Jackson. As he got out of bed and stretched his legs he walked up to the window and with a bit of effort pushed it open. To his amazement everything was so crisp and clear. There was nothing but wide open landscapes and greenery all around. He let his senses take over has he heard the seagulls caw as they swooped over the ship and flew off into the horizon. He felt the dry humid air brush past his pale skin, he had a feeling he was going to be red as one of Spain's tomatoes by the end of the day. As he took a deep breath in. He could feel how fresh and clean the air was so much different to England, for it's main city centre was ridden with the horrid smell of oil and waste, that was looming in all the cracks and crevices of the country.

With no time to lose for he feared that the day would soon be over quicker than you could say 'flying mint bunnies' he pulled up his black trousers from the previous day, along with the long-sleeved shirt and placed the cravat collar around the shirt in the most neatest fashion he could give considering he did not wish to dally.

He hastily shoved all of his writing material into the trunk that lay in front of his bed, almost spilling the ink pot on his night shirt. He hadn't bothered to make his bed or bother to have breakfast for adrenaline was pumping through his veins.

Has he was pacing himself down the deck trying to be as fast as he possibly could, but not to be seen as a stowaway running away to a new life. He passed many convicts that had been on the ship for the past three years hardly recognizing any of their faces for he had no interest in them.

Suddenly a large foot was placed out on the walkway. The Brit hadn't of noticed it until it was too late falling forward onto the hard wooden floor, almost wincing in pain. His trunk had been jolted around but had remained closed and undamaged.

"Might want to watch yourself there, your majesty." The convict said has he playfully teased the Brit knowing all well that it would make him boil like a kettle over a fire.

The Brit looked up to have a glimpse of what the person had looked like he looked strangely a lot like himself with only a few more freckles and a smug grin on his face. Upon hearing this rude insult pushed himself up from the ground before scraping himself off. He cleared his throat and spoke "I can assure you that with that tongue…you shall be sent to the gallows."He said with intimidation implying to send the convict a message that he was to be feared.

"Oh, I am so scared; I am literally shaking in my cuffs. You can't do anything out here. I haven't committed to crime no sir I have done nothing of the sorts... so far" He looked up and gave an evil smirk to the Brits face

"You'd like to see me try? Eh?" The Brit said with confidence before pulling a small sharp tipped dagger from his dagger holster that had been slyly hidden away blending in with his black trousers.

The convict stepped back, not wanting to get in to a one-sided sword fight and slowly turned around and stepped back in line against the others. Just before the Brit turned around to look the other way the convict tapped him on the shoulder.

"The names Oliver… and you'll be seeing plenty more of me. Mr?" he asked with curiosity

"Kirkland." The Brit said before he shifted his view to his trunk that still remained on the floor. He lifted it off the ground and inspected it making sure that it fully intact before he continued walking down the deck until he could no longer see the brute he had unfortunately acquainted.

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As he was nearing the end of the walkway he stumbled across the ship's swab, Peter who was looking ever so cheerful.

"Good day, Arthur! I mean Mr Kirkland. Ah sir. ..Oh do you need any help with your bags sir?" Peter had trouble finding the correct words to say to the Brit so he just stuttered out any words that sounded polite. The Brit noticed he was carrying a small satchel that had been wrapped around his shoulder.

"No thanks, Peter dear. I am quite all right. Thank you for the kind offer though." He spoke with a forced smile which was barely recognisable seeing as the Brit had frowned so often his face had just moulded into that same serious look.

"Well can I at least walk with ya!? Till you get off the boat of course!" said Peter jovially

"I suppose, why not." I agreed accepting the fact that Peter wasn't the one to give up half the time.

They walked in silence for a few minutes occasionally looking at one another with obvious different opinions of one another. The Brit couldn't tell what Peter had thought of him, but Britain thought he could read any person like the back of a book and often thought he had a pretty good assumption of people's lives before they told their tale. He thought that Peter must have been a runt of a boy, so his parents sent him away or he willingly left the house due to some unknown reason he couldn't put his finger on. Now he had the lowest position of work on a ship, a swab.

They had finally reached the unsteady wooden plank that had connected the ship to the newly built dock. It didn't look they had put much effort into the infrastructure of the dock because as soon as they had gotten off the boat they felt off-balance, but that may been the fact that they'd been out at sea for nearly three and a half years not realising that they haven't yet received their land legs.

As Britain wobbled off the deck and moved to the newly built wooden shack that had been built opposite Port Jackson. Peter was closely following from behind. He stopped to turn around to the young lad that had followed him like a puppy for the last few minutes and politely said

"Thank you very much for the very brief conversation and I hope I shall see you later. I bid you good day." Said the Brit trying to seem as kind as he possibly could

"Wait!" Peter yelled out. It was so loud that a few bystanders started to look but merely turned around and continued about their business.

"What is it now?" The Brit asked impatiently

"Well, one night as I was cleaning the deck." Britain raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "Ok walking around the deck, I overheard you talking to that Riley bloke over how you were searching for a boy who was seen roaming around New Holland."

"Yes, what about it?"

"Well, I was wondering if I could come along with you!" Peter said hopefully as he slipt one hand behind his back crossing his fingers.

Britain stood there in utter shock. He didn't know what to say or what to do. Turing down the young lad's offer would literally shatter his heart, but bringing him along on this journey, he could find himself dead and being slowly eaten by those wild coyote dogs or whatever they were called. He thought about it for a moment and sighed. He looked down at the boys hopeful face and simply said

"I must know you are worthy to accompany me on this journey. Tell me how do you plan to help me?" He asked the boy to set a challenge up for him.

"I'm great with kids! Kids love me! I can fix stuff too I am great at fixing things! And and I am a decent cook as a matter of fact so you won't go starving or find yourself suffering from food poisoning!

"I beg your pardon. Are you suggesting that my food is poisoned? My food is fine! It is the finest quality of English food!"The Brit scolded at Peter

"I remember when you had offered to help the chef prepare dinner for the crew once. Half of the crew were spewing all over the floor! You gave me a hell of a job to do!" Peter sad displeased at the horrific memory.

"Well it is your job." The brit stated truthfully

Peter looked at the Brit hurt, before he turned around facing his back to the Brit and said

"Its ok. If you don't need me I won't bother you! I promise."

"No."

He turned around with a worried face

"You may accompany on this quest to find the boy."

"Really?! Oh yay thank you so Much Arthur! I mean Mr Kirkland sir!"

Britain gave a slight smile from the corners of his lips and continued walking with the overly excited Peter, until he had walked into the wooden shack. It didn't look much different from the outside, with only a few changes. There was a counter at the back of the room and there appeared to be photos on the wall. Family mementos? He thought to himself. As he walked up to the counter thinking that no one was there a small man had appeared from behind the counter. He had half of his hair missing and a fake smile that seemed so realistic.

"Hello, kind sir. What may I help you with?"

"We need horses and supplies. Food and water would be most appreciated." Britain bluntly said for he had to interest to dawdle.

" I don't have too many horses left so it's going to cost ya."

Britain dropped a velvet red sack on to the counter top and just as it dropped it made a loud clanking noise as the gold coins were crashing against each other as it made impact onto the desk.

"I think this will be enough, and for the food and water as well."

The man looked speechless he simply took the bag and placed it in a drawer before he then collected the key that Britain assumed was for the stable. Both Peter and Britain followed the small man over to the stable.

The small man cleared his throat. "I'm feeling generous today." Britain rolled his emerald-green eyes for he knew that money would have lasted him months. "So I will let you choose your horses. Choose wisely." He said before walking into the other room.

"Wow this is so cool! I get my very own horse! I've only ever ridden once, but I am pretty skillful at it and I really don't mean to brag." Said Peter who looked though as he was going to burst if he got anymore happier. Britain sighed after he had finished talking for he knew for sure the young boy was completely bragging.

"Yes, yes that's quite alright. Now hurry up and pick a good horse. Preferably a strong horse, seeing as we need to be going on rough terrain."

"Oh before I pick my horse, just exactly where are we going?"

"Oh hadn't I mentioned it before?" None of the less, we are going up south to a place called Campbelltown. That is roughly near where the boy was last spotted."

"Ok cool! I can't wait to meet him! He will adore me! Arriving on a valiant steed in the sun set! Oh how I can't wait!" Peter continued fantasizing over what the boy would think of him.

Britain really didn't care as long as the boy was humble and respectable. Over spending hours in the Stable both Peter and Britain had picked out a horse each. Britain's was a large white mare with a few black spots on it here and there. He chose it because it had strong and reliable legs also that it reminded him of the unicorns he had read in books as a kid. Peter on the other hand didn't go for how strong the legs were but more for looks he picked out a Black stallion that appeared to have a white mark over its neck almost shaped like a star. He said something about it being a horse sent from the heavens and rambled on some ridiculous nonsense before he quieted down.

As they left the stable, Britain gave both horses to Peter, entrusting in him that they would not slip away and walked back inside to collect the food and supplies. Just as he entered the shack he stopped and stared at the figure that was standing in front of the counter. It was the Netherlands. He examined the country's body from top to bottom he had his usual hair that seemed all gelled up and gravity defying. He wore his favourite blue and white scarf that he had always worn even in the heat of the late afternoon. He wasn't wearing his usual khaki coat instead he was wearing a light blue shirt the seemed to flow to his elbows. He was also wearing black pants just as Britain was but instead of Brown boats he wore sleek black brogans. The Netherlands suddenly turned around and walked away from the counter not saying a word as he casually walked past the Brit like it was no big deal but he gave a glare that Britain felt was attempting to steal his soul.

He then walked up to the small man and collected the food and simply walked away from the counter. He took a quick look in the bag to only see a few loaves of bread and a bit of dried meat, this he considered a luxury for the state of things in his economy at the time.

Outside Peter ran up to him still holding the reigns of the horses.

"Did you get it?"

"Yes I got it. "

Peter and Britain both looked as they saw that the sun was setting and giving the ground an orange mixed with yellow tint.

"It's too late to head out tonight. We shall proceed in the morning." Britain simply said as he gestured to Peter to follow him into finding a place to be able to rest and receive food for the night.

They eventually found a cottage like house to spend the night at. It was run by a man and a woman and they both assumed they were married. Their names were Elizabeta and Roderich they seemed very friendly until she got angry with him for not answering a question after she had told it over and over again and hit him with her well kept frying pan.

With full stomachs and a much-needed rest for the day ahead they both went into a designated room and went to sleep, not even changing out of their clothes for they were too tired and hot to have bothered to do so.

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**A/N Holy crap guys how was that? A few intense moments here and there but Sealand made up for it with the adorable things he said so cute Sealand you make my story far more interesting!**

**So if you are wondering who is this Ollie? He is actually 2p! England I was bored and I wanted a bad guy so why not make it England himself. Don't worry guys you'll be seeing more of him! I also introduced the Netherlands I didn't bother having him talk just death staring Britain made him menacing enough so I went no further. Please tell me if you wish me to add characters in! I was hoping to add Belgium in even though she had nothing to do with the time peroid but as some sisterly love to the Netherlands hee hee hee yeah 'sisterly'  
**

**Some history for you guys not much really, Just wanted to point out the fact that convicts couldn't do something as evil as tripping poor arty over! I know so mean! But I had to make him stand out in the crowd of Black and White coloured convicts.**

**Campbelltown is in fact an actual Australian town but it was founded in the 19th century I know its a little out of time frame but it was the closest town I could use and I really didn''t want them venturing too far!**

**Some parts of England in the 18th century were in fact beautiful and gorgeous to look at but I was focusing on London the city itself. It was so unclean and so dirty during this time in history. Sure if you go to the country it is beautiful but the cities were horrid.**

**That's all folks cya next chapter! Lk**


	4. Past Stories and Awkward Mornings

**A/N Long time no see! Hey sorry I have been working on a new video for YouTube and I had to make room for it! But I wrote every moment that I could get my hands on! So don't be disappointed I wrote a little bit more for you guys! Hope you enjoy! See you at the bottom of the page :3**

Chapter 4: **Past Stories and Awkward mornings.**

January 24th 1773 1st half

A slight amount of pressure was placed on Britain's chest. At first he ignored it and tried to drift back to sleep. Until a sudden moan awoke him, as he slowly started to rub the sleep out of his eyes. He looked up, his eyes still hazy and his head seemed drowsy, to see a small male figure lying on top of him. In a state of shock he sprung up to his feet in the meantime flipping the other male over and onto his back. Britain still unable to identify the male figure quickly rubbed his eyes and then examined the person. It was Peter. How had he not realised earlier? He recognised the same young face with his blue eyes that have now been closed and his light blonde messy hair that now seemed even messier. Now that he knew who had laid on him. He yelled at the boy who was sound asleep.

"What the fuck were you doing in my bed?!" Britain then began to violently shake the boy to wake him up. Britain was surprised for how much effort it took him to wake Peter up. Peter then finally began to stir; he slowly lifted his body up and sat up in the bed slightly slouching.

"Morning, Mr Kirkland." Peter said tiredly before he gave a small yawn.

"Good morning to you to sunshine!" Britain said sarcastically with a small amount of anger. "Why the hell were you in my bed?!"

"I got scared so I came in."

"Is that supposed to make me forget that even happened?" he paused for a moment. "I don't even know you."

"Well then let me tell you!"

Britain straightened his back before he sat down on the side of the bed. "Fine, tell me." A sparkle came to Peter's eyes as he told the story of his life it wasn't too long seeing the boy was only 13.

Peter began he was born in Harwick Essex around the year 1760. He lived in the slums of the streets with his mother who was a prostitute, she had received Peter out-of-wedlock and because of him her career didn't seem to be as good as it was before. Though she was a prostitute she was a caring mother who always looked after her son and made sure he was loved. He never felt unloved by his mother, until the sad day when she died. Peter was unsure of what she had died from but he knew it was an illness, he knew that she had been unwell for the past few weeks but they could never afford to go and see a doctor. But she kept quiet still attending to her boy, trying her hardest to hold back her cough before she let it out as Peter left the house to go out onto the streets and play with his friends. She had never stopped loving him, until her last breath.

Now Peter was an orphan at the young age of 6. Peter went from place to place searching for a job. He was often turned down by the shop owner for he was not socially accepted by people even though he was an orphan for whom many people would grab off the streets for cheap labour, he was a child of wedlock and no one wanted him in their business. He managed to receive food by scavenging the scraps of the bins and by occasionally stealing fruit from the local costermonger(*), but he had befriended the local baker who was kind enough to give him a small amount of bread and would give him one shilling if he was lucky.

One day about two years later as Peter was sitting on the steps of an old English pub he saw a young priest walk by. He didn't pay any attention to him until he walked towards the steps of the pub. Peter had thought he was going to walk past him, or violently yell him to get out-of-the-way or push him, but instead this man had walked directly straight eyeing the young boy. He got down on one of his knees and looked at Peter in the eyes with a kind gesture of compassion and kindness, peter felt it was the same compassion his mother had given to him all those years ago. Peter noticed the priest had long red orange hair that was tied back with a ribbon with spectacles that laid over his nose and a broad face, he didn't look too old maybe at most 30.

"Hello, me spry young laddie." The priest said cheerfully. Peter could clearly tell he was of either and Irish or a Scottish decent.

"Who me?" Peter asked surprised no one had ever addressed him in his entire life as an equal

"Is there anyone else here?" The priest stated

"…No I guess not." Peter said realising how stupid his last question sounded and lent forward and tucked his face into his knees.

"How's about I buy ye a meal?" The priest kindly offered which made Peter pull his head out of knees and looked up to the man's face.

"Are you sure? I'd hate to bother you." Peter kindly declined the offer. Before his stomach started to growl in hunger.

"I insist now come, I know a place where ye will love. Oh and before we continue on my name is Father Patrick." Patrick said and gave a kind hearted smile

"P-p- Peter sir." Peter managed to stutter out shyly

"Very nice to meet ye Peter, now follow me if ye will."

The pair walked around the streets to find a small pub that was on a corner of an alleyway. It was a brick building with all the bricks being covered in dirt and mud from the rain. As they walked inside people gave peter a few odd looks for finding a child in the bar, but merely carried on drinking. The owner really didn't seem to care about it as long as they paid for drinks, in the end he didn't seem too bothered by it.

Peter explained how shy he was. Britain was utterly shocked and how he wished that Peter would be silent for one minute a few times.

The atmosphere between Patrick and Peter was awkward at first, until a half cracked clay plate was placed onto the wooden table filled with a roll of bread and a half of an apple, with a mug of water. Patrick didn't eat anything though he just sat there watching the boy waiting for him to finish to be able to speak to the boy.

Peter finally finished the food, wiping off the crumbs onto his dirty white shirt before he looked upon a few boiler(**) women in the room that he somehow found attractive. Father Patrick cleared his throat and spoke to the boy

"Best not to let your eyes wonder. Laddie." Said Patrick noticing where the boy was staring

Peter turned his eyes back to Patrick, the irises in his eyes were shaking with fear.

"Don't worry kid, I'm not going to rat ye out." He paused for a moment. "I wanted to talk about you."

"About me why?" Peter thought to himself. 'Surely there are far more important people to talk to then me'

"Well I've seen you around place to place from time to time. Always on the streets trying your hardest to live and not beg off others." Peter sprung forward wondering was this man stalking him? He wondered if he was a woofter(***), or if he was a toff(****)? He certainly looked like he had been raised with a silver spoon in his mouth.

"I'd like to take ye in to my church."

"What? Huh?

"To take ye in to me church. Look I've seen you around kid and I say you've got it rough. I see you getting into fights where ye shouldn't and helping out those who ye don't even know, being turned down job after job. I see that and don't lie to me because I know if ye be lyin."

Peter simply nodded his head and stared down into the floorboards to have a moment to think about what he had just said. 'Someone actually wants me?' he thought 'Someone actually wants to help me for once.' Peter then looked up again to look directly into the man's ember brown eyes, as sky blue and ember brown clashed into each other.

"So what do you say? I can help you get a job and you can leave anytime you want."

"Ok! If you could help me with a job!"

"Of course I can. Now seeing you're on a full stomach how's about you come with me to the church it's a little walk and I needed ye to have a lot of energy to get up the cliff. "He chuckled "I don't want ye to be dead by the time we get up the cliff, wean(*****)!

So Peter and Patrick walked up the cliff that lead to the church taking almost a two-hour walk and as he reached the top of the cliff, he was panting breathless. The church was beautiful, it had a large double door to the front of it with a few small amounts of stained glass windows, the ceiling was high and the church was long and narrow. Peter walked along the brick floor and smiled as he touched each individual pew which he passed. He made it to the altar where Patrick kindly told him not to touch anything for which he did obey. Patrick led him to a rather small house behind the church where he made his way through the door. It looked bigger from the inside then it did from the outside. It had all the luxuries he had ever dreamed of having. A pristine and clean kitchen, a large dining room with rows upon rows of tables and chairs , a room full of soft and comfortable beds to lay on and best of all boys! He greeted every single boy he met as he happily skipped past them. How he longed to have a baby brother to look after and care for but he knew in his heart that he could have never been strong enough to raise him on the streets without the help of his mother. Sure it was old and a bit rusty but it made Peter feel like he was king.

Later that day Peter had received some fine new clothes to wear as he discarded his old ones. Patrick then later gave him a small wooden cross with a chain to place around his neck. Whilst at the church he befriended a boy name Raivis Galante, who was scared of an older boy who lived there but he couldn't recall the name. They had become good friends over the fact the both loved the sea even though Raivis had never been to the sea his parents had always told him stories about the ocean. With the help of Father Patrick Peter was able to gain the job as a ships swab two years after the he had met Patrick. He stated he was lucky enough to even end up on the ship and that's how he met Arthur, by mere coincidence.

Peter then finished his story and looked up to the Brit who had his hands in lap and was looking down at them. Peter almost thought he was crying and so did Britain for a minute.

"Do you still have it?" Britain said as he moved his gaze from his hands to Peter "The pendant?"

"Yeah of course I do!" Peter said reaching in his shirt and pulling out the wooden cross. It looked a bit scratched but Britain guessed that was from time.

"How can you be so cheerful?" It made Peter's smile sink into a small saddened frown.

"I don't really think ab—" Peter started speaking before Britain gave the boy a tight hug. This was something the Englishman had hardly done and if he had done it he was most likely forced into it from France or America.

"I am sorry I have been so harsh on you dear Peter."

"If you have I haven't noticed! Raivis say's I am clueless sometimes!"

Peter reminded Britain so much of America. "Well, all right then I suppose it's time we ought to get something to eat. Come on let's see if Elizabeta has got something ready."

As Peter and Britain walked down the stairs they intruded on Elizabeta and Roderich. Elizabeta was sitting beside Roderich as he was playing a melody on the Piano. It sounded sweet. Elizabeta noticed them as they reached the last step.

"Good morning you two, care to have breakfast?"

"Breakfast sounds good."

The pair was set down at table as Elizabeta placed a red checkered table-cloth over the round table and placed two white crockery bowls down in front of them along with two clear glass cups that she neatly put near the jug of water. She then returned back into the kitchen and brought out a big pot that was filled with creamy porridge along with a wooden spoon.

" I hope this is ok. You did ask for something that would keep away your hunger."

"Yes I did, this is just fine thank you for your hospitality."

"Yeah! Thanks ma'am! "

Without a word Elizabeta silently hurried off to clean the house even though it had always looked like no one had lived there. She called out for a little maid named Feliciano who quickly scurried out of his room with a smile from ear to ear on his face, along with a smudge of pasta sauce on the top of his lips which be quickly licked off. Peter gave a little stare at the boy before he quickly looked back to the pot that lay in front of him and started scooping the porridge into the bowl. Britain didn't say anymore, Britain didn't think Peter had noticed that the maid was in fact a boy, but gave a slight smirk at Peter before he too scooped porridge into the bowl.

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**A/N So what did you think? Yeah I know sealand's back story is a little sad but hey we have Patrick here and I bet half of you thought Patrick was a molester or something! Nope he is a nice man! **

**Ve~ Pasta! Italy (don't worry its not real Italy he is more of a doppelganger) sneaked his way in the end! I have plans for him mwhahaha don't worry they are good. But lets say Peter may try to hit on him...No more said I'll let you imagine :3**

**Sadly you may not see too much of Hungary and Austria after this but I can guarantee they will really help out, more Arthur then Peter.**

**Ok A little History.**

**Sealand/ Peter was seen as a disgrace of a child by society because children born of wedlock are seen as troublesome and still were up until the 20th century. In some societies even now :( Its so sad **

**A lot of missionaries were looking for children to take into homes in the 18th century and Peter just happened to be a lucky one.**

**Latvia/Raivis did not become a country until the 20th century so I deiced to add him in because he doesn't exist yet, he talks about wanting to go to the sea because he is unable to visit the sea due to Latvia's location of being nowhere near the ocean. **

**Ok some English and Scottish slang I put in for all of you! Some English people won't need this but I put it up for the rest of you:**

***Boiler: Is Old English/British slang for an unattractive woman.**

**** Costermonger: Is the English/ British word for fruit seller**

***** Woofter: Is the English/British for basically a homosexual and I don't mean to offend anyone but they weren't really excepted in the 18th century so sorry If I offended anyone :3 My bad **

****** toff: It is English/British word for someone who is a member of upperclass.**

******* Wean: Its Scottish slang for child haha I told you it wasn't all english :3**

**I am so sorry for posting late! I made it up to you with a long chapter! Reviews and Suggestions? I need them! Ciao all LK **


	5. The Mysterious boy is plain mysterious

**A/N Hey guys I am back with another chapter entry! Yay! So You guys finally get to meet Australia! YAY! Won't say anymore I'll let you guys read and enjoy the chapter! Lots of Fluff in this one :3 Gotta luv that Fluff!**

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Chapter 5: **The mysterious boy is plain mysterious (and butt naked)**

January 24th 1773 2nd Half

After Britain and Peter finished their porridge, Britain tucked his chair into the table and urged Peter to do the same, but he didn't listen, instead he ran up the stairs. Each step giving a creak as the weight of Peter's foot touched the old staircase step. Britain then slowly walked behind the boy upstairs.

They continued from the stairs to the hallway. As Britain was trailing his fingers across the flowery wallpaper on they walls the stumbled upon the little maid Feliciano who was happily sweeping the floorboards with his wooden broom.

The sight of Feliciano literally made Peter's heart jump out of his chest. His eyes were starry and his mouth was literally dripping with saliva. Britain also looked down to examine his pants which appeared to have a slight bulge in them. Britain had trouble to hold in his laugh but somehow managed to keep it in. He walked past Peter and returned to the bedroom to pack up his belongings.

Peter was still lost, staring at the maid. Feliciano looked up to notice that Peter was looking directly at him.

"Oh, Ciao! My name is Feliciano Vargas! I am a maid here at the cottage! I hope you've enjoyed your stay here at—" Feliciano introduced himself in his regular high and cheery voice before tripping over his own broom and falling over face first with his dress skirt flipped along with his petticoat and his knee-length bloomers showing.

On the inside Peter was literally screaming with joy but on the outside his face was stunned froze as he looked down to the boy who had his legs open and his bloomers unintentionally flashing. He heard a small grunt from the boy before he quickly bent down to help the poor maid. He held out his hand in front of the maid before he took his hand and was gently lifted up back onto his feet again. Feliciano hastily brushed off the dirt from the frilly white apron realising that he had fallen directly into the pile of dirt and dust he had only been momentarily collecting before.

"Are you alright?" Peter asked with concern on his face as he looked at the trembling maid before grabbing his shoulders to stop him from shaking. From that movement Feliciano had stopped shaking and came out of his hysterics. He looked over at the hands that were resting on his shoulders before Peter slowly retracted his hands from the other boy's shoulders back to his sides.

"Oh yes, I'm fine just a little—" He started to talk before receiving a slight twinge of pain in his lower leg, the pain wasn't too bad but it had hurt enough to make the boy wince.

"You're bleeding." Peter said as he looked to the other boys socks that had light patches of new blood. "Here let me help you." He said before leading the other boy into the bathroom.

He entered the bathroom and sat Feliciano down on the small stool that was opposite the basin. He walked up to the drawer of the bathrooms basin and began to look through each drawer to find bandages and some alcohol to disinfect it. With no luck in the basin drawers he went over to the cupboard that was beside the bathrooms toilet. It was an old wooden cupboard that appeared to have flowers engraved into the woodwork. He struggled to open the cupboard for the door was ajar. He finally managed to get the door open and began to dig around the inside of the cupboard. Eventually he had found some bandages and some rubbing alcohol that had been at the back of the cupboard.

Feliciano was still sitting at the stool, looking down at his leg wondering if it was really bad and they would cut off his leg. Feliciano had the tendency to over exaggerate sometimes but still couldn't help to think the worst over the situation which Peter deemed as a nonlife threatening. Peter then got on his knees and began to fiddle with the glass bottle of alcohol. Feliciano looked from above clearly petrified of the situation.

"Have you done this before?" Feliciano said whilst Peter was fidgeting with the glass bottle trying his hardest to not drop it on the floor and watch the bottle break into a thousand pieces of glass.

"Mhm, back at the church where I was raised. I often helped out the nurse." He said thinking back on the memory before he had managed to finally open the bottle ever so carefully.

"Ok, that makes me feel better then. Oh I never asked for your name. I think it was peter. I've heard that British man yell out your name far too many times." Feliciano said trying to take some pressure of his mind and set it to ease.

"Yep that's me! Though I'd rather tell you myself then you find out from a Brit who was off his nut."

Feliciano giggled. "Is it going to hurt?" Feliciano said as the situation slipped away from light-hearted chit-chat.

Peter looked up to the frightened Italian as he was lightly pouring the alcohol onto the cotton bud. "A bit, but don't worry it'll go away. Now I need you to pull your sock down for me. Ok?" said Peter soothingly. Feliciano obliged to the request and gently pulled the white sock which was now covered in a few patches of blood, he slightly groaned as the sock passed over the cut. Peter then inspected the cut that was on the maid's leg. It wasn't deep but it wasn't shallow either.

"It may hurt a bit more than I said, seeing as it wasn't as light as I expected." Peter then softly placed his index finger over the cut. "It is from a nail. It must have been a loose nail on the floor for when you fell." He had treated cuts similar to the Feliciano had. The thing about nails they are sleek and thin but they can cut pretty deep. "But not to worry! I'll have you up and going in no time!"

"O-o-Okay."

"Are you ready?"

"Y-Ye-Yes! Just get it done with!"

"Ok here we go." He dabbed the cotton bud over the slightly deep wound trying his hardest not to make it any more painful that it was. Meanwhile Feliciano gave a muffled squeal through the embroidered handkerchief that he had brought out seconds before the alcohol was even placed on his leg. The pain he was in was extremely painful that he had begun to cry, as tears crept down from his perfectly tanned olive skin to his chin. Peter had also noticed the curl that had always remained up and curled had now been dropping and slightly bent straight. Feliciano then leaned forward onto Peter and placed his arms around the other boy his fingers gripping to Peter's shirt like claws. Peter then too placed his arms around the other boys back, gently cradling him.

The pain quickly left as it came. Feliciano finally straightened up and Peter moved his arms back from the other boys back. Then trying not to cause a fairly awkward moment reached over to the bandage that had lain beside him on the floor. He then cupped his hands, picked up the roll of fabric and placed the fabric over the wound which was now clean and sterile but was red with irritation. He wrapped the fabric around the leg and tied it off with a semi-tight knot. Feliciano bent down to pull up his socks but was stopped by Peter who already had his hand over the sock. Feliciano sat back into the stool and allowed Peter to pull up the sock. Peter's cheeks were blushing red he realised this and tried to cover it up by swiftly putting the alcohol and the left over bandages back into the cupboard.

"There, all patched up now!" Peter said has he walked over to boy who was now standing slightly off-balance. "It may hurt for a bit so don't try anything you know will be too much for you."

"Oh Grazie! Peter! Words cannot describe how thankful I am!"

"Oh? Well what can?"

"This" Feliciano said before he had placed a soft chaste kiss over Peter's checks. He stepped back and then happily skipped back to the hallway picking up the broom and ran down the stairs.

Peter was blessed to have such a beautiful girl kiss him (still thinking that Feliciano is a girl) and then got off his knees and walked to the door shutting it behind him.

* * *

*** Meanwhile

Britain entered the room and started to pack his bag. Since he was in such a caring and generous mood he had also decided to pack Peter's bag as well. But this was more likely because if he had left Peter to pack it would have taken half a day. Disregarding all the strange objects in the boy's satchel such as a small piece of bread and a pair of frilly white panties that appeared to be a girls seeing as there was a name embodied into it. Ashley. Now this name was particularly concerning for Brit. It was one of those names where you are unsure for the gender of the person. How the Brit hated those gender neutral names. Nonetheless Britain decided not to get into it and continued packing up Peter's bag. Once he had finished he put the satchel over his shoulder then grasped his small trunk in his left hand and proceeded out the door and down the hallway. He had heard muffled and inaudible from the bathroom but hardly payed any attention to it.

He walked down the stairs and looked into the kitchen to see Elizabeta having a conversation with another man; her hands were intertwined with the unknown man. He hadn't seen this man before. He had Albino white hair and skin with beady red eyes that seemed so menacing, but in this case they weren't really menacing more loving and concerned. Elizabeta noticed that Britain had walked down the stairs and quickly moved her hands away from the other man, but it was too late Britain had already seen the intimacy between the pair.

He simply smiled at the couple and then exited the house to go to the barn which was directly beside the cottage. He then opened the red barn door struggling to open the hefty door but managed to open it. He looked inside to only see two horses his and Peter's. He brushed off the pieces of hay that were lying on a bench and placed his trunk and Peter's satchel onto the bench. He grabbed an old leather saddle that had hung upside down by the stirrup and the stirrup had been placed through a rather large nail through the barn wall and placed the horse's bridle on top of the saddle. He then walked over to the horse only stumbling once when he hadn't properly balanced the saddle when he took it off the wall. He placed it over the top of the back of the horse. The horse slightly whinnied with the new amount of weight that was placed over his back and then regained resolve and then began to graze the dirt with its hind legs. Britain then began to tighten the saddle around the horse, not too tight to hurt it but to make sure the saddle doesn't fall off while he is riding it. Upon the horses whinny he grabbed the bridle and slid it over the horse's muzzle and head. He did the same for Peter's horse but he had felt more accomplished when he did Peter's for he did it in a shorter time and the horse was far less disobedient. He held the reigns of both horses and gently led them to the front of the barn where he picked up the trunk and placed the small trunk inside the satchel. He was surprised for how it was able to fit inside. Whilst holding the reigns he opened the barn door and leaded the horses out of the barn before shutting it behind them.

He tied the horses to a wooden post that was near the steps of the cottage before he then walked inside. Britain noticed the man had left and Elizabeta was nowhere to be seen. He sighed and sat down at the table. Just as he sat down he saw Feliciano run down the stairs holding a broom noticing that he had a bandage wrapped around the his leg that was behind his slightly bloody sock. Feliciano then ran around a corner and into the main living room. He was followed by Peter who looked ever so pleased.

"All right there? Lover boy."

"Yeah I'm fine. Hey don't call me that!"

"Whatever you say, now c'mon we have already wasted half the day!"

Peter looked at the grandfather clock that was sitting beside a flower patterned couch and a marble coffee table. It was already 11 o'clock not exactly half a day but less time spending with the boy.

"Ok, let me get my things and we'll be there before you know it!"

"That will not be necessary I have already gotten your things organised, just to make sure that you wouldn't slack and lag behind." The Brit said harshly

"Well I nev-"Peter spoke up before he was cut of my Britain.

"C'mon!" Britain said before he grabbed the boy by his hand and literally dragged him to his horse. They had both gotten onto their horses and rode out of the bay side town to head towards Campbelltown.

* * *

After spending an hour on horseback they had finally reached Campbelltown. With sore backsides and a hungry appetite they slid off the horses. Peter reached into his satchel and got out a piece of bread and started to eat it ever so ravenously. Britain then reached over to the satchel to grab out a bottle of water, before the horse suddenly reared up behind Britain and harshly kicked him knocking the bottle out of his hands and spilling over the dry brown grass creating a small puddle of mud.

"Ow Fuck!" Britain said as he reacted to the pain. It had hurt his lower back but there wasn't any blood but there would most defiantly be a bruise. "Your horse is a good for nothing wanker!"

"Me? That was your horse!" Peter said in defense

Britain then looked up to see that Peter was right it was his own horse. 'Stupid horse why did it kick me perhaps it got scared' Britain thought to himself.

"But what?" Britain muttered loud enough for Peter to hear.

"Pardon?"

"Its nothing. I think I saw a creak earlier I am going to find it and fill up the bottle. You stay here and keep out of trouble."

"Yes sir" Peter said sarcastically and when Britain turned around he started making silly faces. Britain turned back and Peter swiftly turned his body back to the bread and continued eating it.

Britain made his way to the creak it only took him roughly three minutes but it felt longer. He got to the water's edge knelt and placed the empty water bottle in the water that was gently flowing downstream. Just as the bottle was half way filled he had heard a noise from beside him. Upon hearing that noise he almost jumped to his feet and turned to his left. There was nothing there but a bush that was rustling in the wind and a eucalyptus tree that was dropping leaves that spun as they fell, he then turned back to the water but kept his peripheral vision on.

He continued filling up the bottle and just when it had almost filled all the way to the top and had let his guard down he saw what looked like a young boy swoop down from the tree and start running up to the Brit with what appeared to be a sharp pointed spear. Britain dropped the bottle and let out a yell in fear before the boy stopped right in front of him. As Britain got a closer look at the boy a sense of resemblance hit him. The boy looked strangely like…Austria. Yes. Exactly like Austria with only a few differences that seemed somewhat British. His eyes were an emerald green that reminded him so much of his own eyes, brown hair with two ahonge sticking up out of his scruffy hair, he had what appeared a bandage of some sorts placed over his nose and his eyebrows they seemed so much like his own the same wild bushyness, 'had he received the same curse as me,' he wondered, but was worse of all, even more then the eyebrows was the fact the boy was butt naked he could see everything and everything he didn't want to see over the boys tanned body.

"How's it going mate? Name's Australia, I don't take much fancy to that New Holland crap, but in the meantime you can call me Jett. It ya want." Australia said cheerfully through his thick accent that the Brit had never heard before.

"How's it going? Mate? What kind of Queen's English is that?! That's far more insulting then what the Americans do!"Britain said in anger before he sighed. "You can address me as Britain." Britain said regaining some resolve.

"All right calm down Mr Britain. Sorry If my English isn't up to your standards oh great majesty. Now how's about you show me where the rest of your group are, I doubt you came by yourself and I'd like you to be quick about. I don't want to be out here until the late arvo. That's when the dingoes start to come out and I know you wouldn't want that!"Australia said cheekily

"First of all you shall give me respect and second of all…PUT SOME BLOODY CLOTHES ON!" Britain said calmly before raising his voice at the boy. Australia just looked at himself wondering 'what was the problem there was nothing wrong with having no clothes on, it was completely normal. If anyone is strange here it would be that weird Britain.'

"Don't have any." Australia said simply

"I'll let you borrow my shirt so you are at least somewhat decent." Britain said before slipping off his shirt and giving it to the young new Nation. He let his shirtless scrawny body soak in the heat. It wasn't enjoyable but it wasn't that bad. He preferred it being summer rather than winter anyway.

"Thanks mate!" Australia said before sliding the shirt over his neck. It was loose-fitting since the boy was only a child but the shirt would do. "Can you give me a second I just got to find my little koala friend. His name's Sydney. Oh not to worry found him." He picked up a tiny koala that looked rather evil for Britain's liking and placed him over his shoulder.

"Now hurry up and follow me. I don't want to be red as a tomato by the end of this." Britain said for he had heard stories of a few English people coming to this country and ending up with red flaking skin. He shivered at the thought of that. Britain picked up the bottle of water that was now half filled and led the way back to where Peter was with the new nation Australia following closely behind.

**A/N**

**Australia is a cocky one ain't he? Nah I love him so much! I want more of him in the actual Hetalia series! I didn't want to be too racist so I tried my hardest! My Aussie friend gave me all the advice for what to say and what not to say thank goddess for her!**

**I am so sorry to offend anyone who is a Chibitalia x HRE fan. NOT MY INTENTION! So I wanted to point out there that I love Sealand and feel utterly sorry for him! He is a real country I swears! What did you think of the fluff between the two? Don't worry there is no more fluff between the pair. No more CHIBITALIA WHY?! Sorry thats the end for Chibitalia :3 We will miss you!**

**All right me lovelies that's it for me! Gonna have a nap! I sleep like a cat bread loaf. Have a good day and farewell! Oh and before I go I will probably write the next one tomorrow because I want there to be a little anticipating wait for chapter 7! It will be realised on 26th of Jan A.K.A AUSTRALIA DAY A.K.A AUSTRALIA'S BIRTHDAY so happy birthday to you!**

**Bye All LK :3 **


	6. Tears under the southern cross

**A/N Hi guys New Chapter posted! Yay! I must warn you though you may need some tissues by the end of this... I'll say no more and let you read see you at the bottom!**

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Chapter 6:** Tears under the Southern Cross**

24th January 1773

Australia and Britain were walking back to the camp for where Britain knew Peter would be; hopefully, though that kid is unpredictable as the weather. Australia kept staring at the Brit curiously wondering what type of person he was and why he was so strange. He indeed thought Britain was one of the strangest people he had ever met even though he was one of the first. 'What's wrong with wearing no clothes and what's wrong with the way I talk? If anyone has an accent that sounded off it was most certainly Britain's. Australia wanted to throw him into the great barrier reef or at least roll him off the top of Ayers rock which would be most enjoyable to see that Pom roll run and break his neck. But since it was late in the afternoon he didn't feel up to and was just too tired to even bother to do so.

Australia's staring got the best of him and the Brit had finally noticed after a few minutes of the boy eyeing him like a dog eyeing a steak, more like a bone in this case seeing how lean and malnourished the Brit was. Britain finally snapped and began to calmly speak to the boy but in a tone that gave away both how annoyed he was and how violated he felt. It was strange to feel violated by eyes but he had felt he had been stripped of all pride.

"Why must you stare at me like that?"

"Was I staring? Oh sorry mate, I didn't mean to." Australia lied. It wasn't a good believable lie so the Brit saw straight through it.

"Look I know you are lying to me." Britain replied to the horrid attempt of a lie. 'You'd have to think twice before lying to a sleuth such as myself' the Brit thought to himself.

"All right then, you caught me! I was staring at you." The Brit scoffed to himself at that answer. "The reason why I was staring at you was because, well, I find you, how do I say it…odd."

"Me? Odd? I beg your pardon, if anyone is the least odd it is most certainly you."

"Your pardon is begged." Australia replied cheekily before clearing his throat a little "Well first of all, you speak strange, wear odd clothing and you are rather annoying to cut it straight."

The Brit growled under his breath at that cocky answer. "Now let me correct you, first I speak the finest of English unlike yourself, second every person who I have ever met except you has worn clothing and thirdly I am most certainly not annoying, if anyone is annoying it is clearly you."

Australia started to laugh at that response and for a moment Britain thought that the koala had started to as well. Britain was left standing there to wonder what was so funny about that answer. Until Australia straightened up and began to talk. "I like you, you may be one of the strangest bloke's I have ever met but I got to hand it to you. You are as mad as a cockatoo." Australia said to Britain in a way that sounded as if he was being insulted but was mixed in with what the Australian saw as a compliment

"A cocka—" Britain tried to ask what a cockatoo was before Australia ran up to him and gave him a hug around his stomach. The Australian's arms were so tiny they could not reach all the way around instead they were barely touching the left and the right sides of the Brit. Surprised by the sudden hug he gave a small grin at the corners of his lips and began to notice how tall the boy actually was. He wasn't one of the tallest or largest nations that the Brit had come across, but he certainly wasn't the smallest either.

The Australian stepped back from the Brit and gave a wide open smile and reached his hand up to the Brit's hand. Hesitant at first Britain sighed and then held the hand of boy as they continued walking towards the camp.

*** Meanwhile

Peter had begun to worry for Britain. Not that he had believed the Brit had worried at least once for himself but he left that aside. It had already been over half an hour since the Brit had left for the creak. He wondered if he had gotten into trouble. He wondered if maybe just maybe 'he met a Kangaroo and the Kangaroo had taken him in as his joey', the Brit could certainly pass for a joey being so small and thin. Peter didn't want to admit it to himself but he much rather liked the Brit. Sure half the time he was a stuck up toff and when he wasn't being a stuck up toff he was being a nagging mother, but somehow he liked him as a friend and as a friend he would do the only thing he could do at this point wait until he comes back. He made a decision if he doesn't come back in the next 15 minutes he would go out and look for him himself. Surely that was the nice thing to do as a 'friend'.

The 15 minutes had passed and Peter had begun to push himself up from the ground. He brushed himself off from the dry red dirt that was on the ground and walked over to his horse. Petting the horse's head and sliding his hand down the neck and over the star-shaped mark. Just as he was about to mount the horse he saw a shadow, no, wait scratch that two shadows, that were holding hands? As the two shadows got closer he realised that one of them had belonged to the Brit, he wondered why he had no shirt on until he noticed the unrecognisable shadow that appeared to have only a shirt on, he wondered who this person could be. He knew it had to have been a boy judging by the size of him or either a midget, but he didn't think Mr Kirkland would hold hands with anyone let alone a midget and also the fact that there was a mysterious midget wandering around the outback. So he stuck to his first assumption of it being a boy, but not just any boy, the boy that they had come out to look for and Mr Kirkland had found him. Peter had felt angry for the fact that Mr Kirkland had found the boy before he did. He threw his hands up in the air and mumbled to himself "It's just not fair."

Britain and Australia walked closer to Peter still both wearing smiles upon both faces, as they walked up to Peter who was trying to pull off a smile that seemed ever so unrealistic. Britain let go of the boy's hand. Australia felt somewhat saddened by the warmth of the Brit that had suddenly slipped away as he let his hand separate from the Brit and coldness began to manifest in his hand once again. The Brit nudged to Australia reminding him of what he had told him earlier. Of Course! How could he have forgotten? Peter had no idea that Britain was a country and he had to keep this secret as well as his own for being a country as well.

"G'day. Name's Jett! You got to be Peter, right? I've heard a little about you on the way over here!" Australia said as spite and cheerful as ever through that new and interesting accent. Peter was also surprised by the accent as well as Britain, he had never heard anything like it before and he found it strange but he wanted to hear the Australian talk more.

"Hello, I think. My name is Peter, captain of the 'Moaning Lady' at your service!" Peter said politely as a lie split through his tongue.

"Don't you mean swab of 'Moaning Lady'?" Britain replied to the white lie, bringing down the sailors carrier to a new level of shame.

"Not important. What's important is why you are shirtless and why is he wearing nothing but a shirt?" Peter asked curiously but was slightly disturbed by the situation and the question itself.

"A story for another time besides would you really like to see a naked boy run up to you with a spear, his private parts clearly flashing about without a care in the world!"

"Now I don't want to know. Just get him some clothes and be done with it." Peter ordered

"Why should I? I'd say you should seeing as you have done nothing this whole day!" Britain denied the order for he felt no reason to do so.

"I have most certainly not, I have been looking after the horses or would you rather me set them loose I could do that now if you'd like!" Peter shot back

"You're such a twat you know!"

"Me? You're more of an arse than I am you fuc—"

Australia laughed at the petty argument between the pair. "Ok now you're going to make me laugh as loud as a cockatoo!"

"What's a—" Peter begun to question the odd statement the boy had given before Britain had cut in.

"Don't even bother." The Brit said simply for he was beginning to receive a headache and he didn't want it to get worse. Deciding it would get Peter to shut up he sighed and walked over to Peter's horse and said "Fine I'll get him some clothes, but from your bag though."

"Why not yours?

"If he can't fit into my shirt how do you expect him to fit into a pair of my trousers?"

Peter had given up for there was nothing else he could say to that answer. Instead turning to the boy to try and have a conversation.

"So do you like the ocean?"

Britain had only heard that lame attempt of a conversation starter before he began rummaging around in Peter's bag. Not much could fit the boy since he was so little. So Britain pulled out a light blue nightshirt that had a frilly and lacy collar to it along with a red ribbon that was tied off into a messy shoelace tie. He then pulled out the underwear he had discovered earlier that day still embroidered with the name 'Ashley', the pants were small so he knew they would somewhat fit the boy.

Britain then walked back over to where Australia and Peter were sitting; he could now fully hear the conversation.

"Is that really true?! You met pirates? Were they mean as people say they are?" Australia said ever so innocently which left Britain wondering when did we ever met pirates.

"Even worse! I fought them off though, one by when they fell! I tell you and I even saved a women who kissed me in gratitude." Peter said half-lying. Britain did know he was lying about the whole Pirate encounter but it wasn't all lies, after all he did notice a smudge of pasta sauce on his cheek as he walked down the stairs at the cottage, even though it was a boy he kissed.

The conversation stopped as Britain had intruded on them. They both looked up at Britain with two very different expressions. Australia was as happy as usual and gave a large smile while Peter gave a huff as if he was only getting to the good part of his make believe story.

"Here are your clothes Jett and may I ask if you could please give me back my shirt."

"No worries, oh and thanks for the shirt." Australia said as he slowly got up onto his feet.

Britain then handed over the clothes as Australia began to slid of the shirt. Only then did Peter realise he wasn't wearing pants.

Australia stared down at the clothes wondering if it was a good thing to put these clothes on. He shrugged it off. He slid his arms through the arm holes of the shirt before pulling the shirt over his head. Just as he had grabbed the underwear Peter snatched it out of his hands and raised his voice to the Brit.

"Where did you get this?"

"I think the question is where did you?"

Peter growled at that response. "It doesn't matter. He can use them. I'll go collect some sticks and wood to start the fire." Then he gave the underwear back to Australia and walked off by himself to find the sticks.

"I don't get what's all the fuss about its just knickers!" Australia said as he lifted up the nightshirt and pulled on the underwear.

Britain looked at Australia as he had finished getting dressed. He found the boy rather cute in a strange way and not at all creepy or weird. It was just strange and nothing more. Upon the stare that Australia noticed he gave a little twirl spreading out his small chubby arms as far as he could.

Hours later as the sun had already set and the sky was filled with thousands of stars like little fireflies unable to touch but beautiful to see made the Australian boy awe in amazement. With a fire flickering behind them and a sleeping Peter laying on the far side of the fire far away from where Britain was sitting for he still had been angry at the Brit. Britain focused his attention to the other country who was still staring at the sky.

"Beautiful isn't it?"

"Mhm! I bet nowhere else in the world has stars like mine! Oh and I got to show you my favourite!"

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about."

Australia wasn't listening and spoke again "There it is! It's my favourite! I call it the Southern Cross! Pretty cool name, don't ya think?"

"Yes that's a very lovely name, but that's not what I wanted to talk to you about."

A smile dropped from the boy's face as the seriousness of the sentence kicked in.

"Well what do you want to talk about? I'm all ears."

"This is a very serious matter you must understand this."

"I think I do."

"No I don't want I think, I want, I know."

"Ok then I know."

"Being a country isn't something to be taken for granted some countries see it as a burden. It is very dangerous you see for many other countries will want to invade you and steal your vital regions and that is the can only be the beginning. You see if your country is in financial debt for example it can really lower your health and make you sick and your only cure is for your country to gain some profit. Now I know this is a lot to take in but you must understand it is a very serious matter."

"I know it is." Australia's voice sounded more sheepish than usual. He was looking down into his hands and was literally shaking with fear. Britain noticed this and pulled the boy in for a hug. Australia gripped onto the other country as tight as he possibly could and began to sob onto the shoulder of the Brit.

"Don't cry Australia." The boy began to wipe the tears out of his eyes and moved his attention to the Brit. "I will protect you and aid you. Whenever you are in trouble and need help I will be there for you and I hope you can do the same for me." Britain said soothingly

"Of course I will help you." Australia said slightly sniffling.

"So I'd like to ask you this. Would you Australia be a part of the British Empire. I promise you, I shall always be there for you and aid you in your struggles."

Australia took a moment to think it over. He thought to himself 'I don't think I could get through without the help of others.'

Australia was too shaken up to use his words so instead he nodded into Britain's neck and continued crying. This time the tears were not of fear or sadness, instead they were of joy and happiness. Australia fell asleep in Britain's arms with his tears all dried up. Britain placed a soft woolen blanket on the floor and laid the boy over the top of it wrapping him inside the blanket. Then Britain laid down next to Australia and mumbled to himself "Australia, you are a strong country and I look forward to being your guardian and mentor." He then moved his fingers through the boy's coffee coloured hair. The boy shuddered a bit as a sudden cold hand had accidentally brushed past his face. Britain then gently lied down beside the boy and slowly fell asleep.

Little did they know that Peter had been awake the whole time hearing the conversation, every detail and every word. Peter thought to himself, 'somehow I always knew that Brit was a country he was far too English for that matter and how had he gotten special access to the ship. He didn't seem like the most important person in the world and what made my suspicions sore was of the news of a boy being found wandering around the new land'. Peter had fitted every piece of the puzzle together but decided he wanted to be seen as a clueless swab seeking for adventure not knowing what he was about to get into and he wanted to make sure that the two countries did not know that he had uncovered their secret. And with that he shut his eyes and went to sleep with a cunning and conniving smirk.

* * *

**A/N **

**What did you think of Australia he can have a cheeky side but a sweet and loving side, much like America! I wanted him to be similar to America but a bit more outgoing and more athletic per say, you'll see why in the next chapter. So Peter can be cute and cuddly but he can be a sly devil other times. Trust me something fishy is going on! But I shall let your imagination wonder until the next chapter!**

**Until next time my lovlies! Ciao LK :3**

**Ok so anyone wondering what a cockatoo is? Its bird to cut it simply and the Australians say that it has the most annoying call of all time.**


	7. Brown Snakes and Cricket Bats

**A/N Hey Guys So happy to release this chapter! It was a fun chapter to write and I quite enjoyed it! This chapter is more of a fun filled discovery chapter. With a little bit of fun and games. I'll say no more and let you read on :3**

Chapter 7: **Brown snakes and cricket bats**

25th of January 1773

The next day Australia had woken up just before the crack of dawn, surprised by the warmth he was currently wrapped in. He slowly sat up off the dirt floor still entangled in the blanket. He wondered who had placed it over him and then he turned to the Brit who was sound asleep breathing in a calm and relaxed rhythm as his chest rose and sunk back down. Australia couldn't help but smile at the Brit after all he did say he was going to protect him. He pushed the blanket off of himself and let it gently fall to the floor, as it did a few partials of dust flew into the air. Australia had a big day planned for both Britain and Peter. He wanted to show them both what his country had to offer. Australia began to move to the edge of the hill that seemed somewhat flat and watched as the sun slowly crept up over the horizon in the morning leaving a golden tint to the countryside. Australia had always been the one to wake up with the sun for he saw every second you lay there asleep is a second wasted.

As Australia looked back on the strange foreigners, Peter had begun to stir, flailing his arms around uselessly while rolling around in the dirt floor. Australia just smiled at the boy and turned his head back to the rising Sun., until he was startled by a sudden clasp to his shoulders that stiffened upon impact. The hand was large and slightly warm and Australia invited the hand and relaxed his stiffened muscles. The figure sat down beside him. It was Peter. With a smile as innocent as ever as the sun lit up half of his face leaving the other side dark and unwelcoming, and somehow that unwelcoming feeling that the Australian was feeling felt so realistic as if there was a part of Peter that he was hiding but he shrugged off the thought of doubt.

It wasn't until roughly seven that Britain awoke, 2 whole hours since Peter and Australia had shared a moment of peace and tranquillity watching the sun shine through the morning as bright as a lantern that had only just been lit. Britain groggily lifted his body up upon to his feet having the worst night sleep imaginable. It had been cold since he had given his blanket to Australia and besides the fact that he had been sleeping on a sharp pointed rock the entire night. He yawned and stretched his back giving a large crack of his bones. He then walked over to where Peter and Australia were sitting, still at the edge of the hill chatting immensely with one another. They were so absorbed into each other's company and light hearted conversation that they did not notice when Britain had walked in on them.

Peter was the first to turn his attention to the Brit, his face was much happier than the night before but that may have been because of Australia. Australia then followed Peter and also gave a smile this time the smile was more warm and welcoming rather than the half-hearted one he was receiving from Peter. Peter then quickly jumped onto his feet and approached the Brit in a calm but assertive matter. Though Peter was much shorter then Brit (he may have been one of the only people who were shorter than him) he appeared to be the same height as the Brit and was looking directly into his emerald green eyes that were filled with a sense of nervousness, but that may have been because the Brit was slightly slouching.

"All is forgiven, now let's get breakfast going! We were starving waiting for you to wake up. We were wondering if you were ever going to." Peter said letting go of his grudge against the Brit for he saw it wasn't worth spending his time arguing over such a petty matter as underwear. Meanwhile the Brit was utterly surprised by that response. Peter had seemed so childish for most of the time but this time he had shown to the Brit that he could be a responsible young man.

Britain gave an amused huff. "As it is for me, I agree with you Peter…partially…now let us have breakfast. We bought plenty of food so there should be enough for you as well Jett." Britain felt rather annoyed at Peter for that sly comment but brushed it aside for he didn't want to get into another argument after all he had only just gotten out of one.

"Ta, you right? Need any help with breakfast? I'd feel bad if I didn't help out." Australia said kindly trying to keep his word from last night.

"Oh, no, no it's fine. It's nothing special; it's just simple bread and a canteen of water. Sorry if it isn't as extravagant as you were expecting, we couldn't exactly bring the finest of dinning food all the way to the outback now could we?"

"I guess not but whatever food you got I can handle! Plus I wasn't expecting anything fancy!" Australia said not even bothered by the fact that they would be eating staples. He didn't seem to care what he ate as long as he had company. He had been eating by himself with no friends besides the wildlife. His life before the Europeans came was a lonely and solitude life. He did feel at content with the recluse he had lived by but something in his heart twinged for the feeling of friendship.

Britain handed out an individual bread piece to both Peter and Australia along with the canteen and placed it in-between the two before he reached into the sack pulling out a piece of bread for himself. They sat in silence. The silence didn't seem that awkward it was a silence of a long waiting meal for none of them at time to waste on speaking. Britain didn't seem to mind much nor did Peter but Australia had begun to hastily think of a conversation stater before every time he tried he was faced with dead silence besides the sound of Peter nosily biting into the bread and chewing ever so loudly. So with that Australia gave up and continued eating his bread not as madly as Peter but not as stuck up as Britain, wiping for every time a crumb and dropped onto his shirt and so he ate his own pace, steady but neat.

Peter had finished first out of the three, no surprise there. The Brit thought to himself for he knew at heart that boy was an animal when it came to eating. Then Peter reached over to the canteen that was reflecting the sun directly into the Brits eyes, annoying as it was he couldn't be bothered to move the canteen. Upon taking the canteen, Peter bend his head back gulping the water down his throat, Adams apple bobbing up and down each time he swallowed a mouthful of water. Britain then interrupted the boy.

"Save some for the rest of us you hog!" Britain said hoping it would get the boy's attention upon the insult for which it did. Peter stopped chugging down water and gave a shot a stare at Britain smiling with evil delight and threw his head back once again and continued drinking the water.

Britain gave a growl as he pounded his fist into the dirt making his knuckles turn white for he was just about to get up and knock the water right out of the boy's hand before a small chubby hand was placed over the top of his fist. He looked up to see Australia shaking his head in disbelief for he had known that Britain was not in a good mood, and there was something about Peter that ticked him off. He then backed down, not in retreat but for the fact that Australia was right what was the point of arguing again over another pointless thing. The first time it was undergarments and if he had let it happen again it would be over water. If he had wanted to argue over something it must have been with more meaning than inanimate objects.

Australia then decided to try and divert the conversation to a lighter note. He moved his hand off from Britain's hand which had now relaxed and his white knuckles had turned back to his natural pasty white. Australia spoke up "Seeing that you both are new to Aus—I mean New Holland, and I consider myself as a local. How's about I take you guys to the best places I know!" Australia was quite proud of his country and displayed for what he saw as a true blue attitude to his homeland. Britain looked up towards the Australian. He much liked the idea of looking around Australia since he had only been there roughly over three days.

"I like your thinking Jett, Where do you suppose we go?" said Britain

"Me too! Yeah tell us where is the best place to go?! I want to see all New Holland has to offer!" Peter chimed in the conversation forgetting all of his worries of the previous dark but completely stupid argument.

Inside Australia was growling at the fact of being called 'New Holland'. How he hated that name. The people from the Netherlands are so thick and up themselves that they think they have the right to go around naming anything new and shiny like silverware like it's their own? Australia is Australia and nothing more. He is and always will be the best country in the world no matter how much others will insult him and bring him down for he had pride in his colours. Australia cleared his throat and spoke back to Peter.

"Well, I know a place nearby, I call it the billabong. It's sorta like a pond. I hope you guys can swim. Because if you can't I won't promise I'll save you!" Australia joked.

"Yeah I can swim! What about you Mr Kirkland?" Peter said as he looked over to Britain who appeared to have a face filled with worry and doubt.

"I can assure you I am a confident swimmer. The only problem is we will have to swim naked of course." Britain said slightly embarrassed of what he had just said.

"Of course! I'm not getting my clothes wet! Besides I don't see what the big deal is!" Peter said without a care of another man seeing is junk flailing around carelessly as he bomb dived into the pond surely hurting his member on impact of the water. That was the only thing the boy really worried about and he gave a slight shudder at the thought.

"Yeah! C'mon mate. I don't give a rat's arse so why should you?!" Australia said agreeing with Peter. He honestly couldn't care less as long as he could take a dip in the billabong and escape the summer's heat he didn't care. The Brit was going in the billabong if he liked it or not!

"Oh bollocks, why the hell not. But just so you know I will be wearing underwear."

"Fine suit yourself, me on the other hand prefer to go freestyle, if you know what I mean!" Peter said joking towards the Brit. The Brit's face was red as ever and all Australia could do was laugh.

After half an hour of walking they had finally reached the Billabong. It was a slightly deep creak that had half-submerged trees sticking out of the top of the water and a few moss patches here and there in the water itself. As soon as Australia saw it his green eyes lit up with joy and he practically ran towards the water's edge. Stripping off the nightshirt and underwear as he ran leaving it somewhere behind him he honestly had no idea where it had landed but he couldn't care and he dove straight in the water. While Peter and Britain walked behind at a steady pace. Once they had finally reached the Billabong, Peter stripped off his clothes without a care and joined Australia in the cool water.

Britain took his time carefully enjoying each second as he slowly and carefully fiddled with his buttons on his shirt. He pulled the shirt off of his back and folded it ever so neatly and placed on a part of the ground that was not wet and muddy. Now shirtless, he undid the black button on his long black trousers and let them slide down from his petite and boney hips. He once again folded them and placed them underneath the folded shirt.

Instead of jumping in the murky water, he grasped onto a sunken tree and let his body gently slide into the water. Trying his hardest not to get his light blonde hair wet but it was already too late for Australia had begun to swim his way over to the Brit and before he had even realised it a large wave of water was splashed onto his face instantly wetting his face and hair. He gave out an annoyed grunt at the boy but then gently tilted his head back and began to float along the billabong's edge.

While the Brit was calmly floating downstream, the other two were getting up to all sorts of mischief. Australia had found a large flat rock that was on the opposite side of the billabong and began to climb it. Once he got to the top, he threw an overly dramatic stance. With his hands on his hips and his legs squashed together, before he did a small run up and jumped straight into the billabong, doing half a somersault before splashing on entry. While Peter was trying his hardest to annoy the Brit, before Peter had splashed the Brit and broke out a childish war between the two.

They had stayed at the billabong for an hour before Australia decided to take them to an open plain where he knew his wildlife friends would be. Oh how he couldn't wait to show them all of his animals. He had all different types of animals from kangaroos to dingoes from spiders to snakes he had them all. But of course he wouldn't be planning on showing any spiders or snakes for he knew the Brit and Peter would have an absolute fit if a snake had slivered through the tall thick dry grass hissing ever so ferociously but snakes only do that for unfamiliar people.

There they found themselves on an open plain just as expected. It wasn't too far away from the billabong but it seemed to spread out for ages reaching miles and miles back into the tree line. The grass arrayed in different colours from a dry brown to a lush green. At first the Brit speculated what they were even supposed to be looking at for there was nothing but grass and trees surrounding the edge of the plain.

"Now don't tell me you have imaginary friends?!" Peter cracked up and started to tease the boy for nothing was there.

"They are real they should be here! Like they always are!" Australia felt quite offended by Peter. They should have been there but where are they? They were only just here the day before. Now I know they think I'm off my nut, until Brit spoke up.

"There's nothing wrong with having imaginary friends. I have them even at my age. Now Peter don't be so mean." Britain said defending the boy, for there really was nothing wrong with having imaginary friends. Sometimes it doesn't hurt to have a cup of tea with Tinkerbell or Captain Cook or Flying Mint Bunny for that matter of fact there was nothing wrong with it at all. Britain liked the fact that Australia believed in imaginary friends, now he could speak up to the other countries who recognised him as mad or insane. Britain continued thinking about this until he saw a small figure move out of the dry grass.

"Ah there's one now!" Australia said excitedly as he pointed his index finger to the dark shadow covered figure.

The animal wasn't recognisable at first but after it made a few more small steps it finally made its way out from the shadow of the grass. It was a joey, a baby kangaroo that seemed to be missing its mother. At the sight of the joey Australia ran towards it filled with joy and happiness. Britain wondered how the boy had a natural talent with animals he knew if he had done the same as Australia the animal would run away with fear, but not for Australia.

Other animals followed the joey out of the tall grass, ranging from all shapes, sizes, colours and species. So many animals that Peter and Britain had never seen before and Australia couldn't wait to introduce. He rambled out some names that he named the species something about, Bandicoots, Kangaroos, Wombats, Cassowary and a lot of snakes that made Britain run for his life while Peter was too scared to even move with his whole face white as the brown snake wrapped its body loosely around Australia, Australia didn't mind in a way it tickled. They only left when Britain almost fainted as he saw a small scaled crocodile come up from behind Australia, almost.

After the unpleasant encounter with the animals, Britain decided it was time to show Australia a true British sport after all he had shown us a few things about himself all though Britain couldn't exactly bring back the endless rain and cold weather he would show him the true meaning of British entertainment. As soon as they got back to the camp Britain ran over to his trunk. He brushed a few things aside until he had found his way to the bottom of the trunk, which had at the very bottom a new hardly used willow wood cricket bat and a leather cricket ball. Upon picking it out he gave a challenging smile and turned his attention to Australia and Peter.

"I know we are short on players…by a large margin, but I was wondering since you have shown us what you find entertaining how's about I show you the finest of British entertainment?" Britain said as he turned to them both showing the bat and ball. Peter's blue eyes lit up with excitement.

"Oh you have to play cricket! Though he is right, we are short on players! But no matter we gotta play!" Peter said urging Australia to play. He had hardly played cricket seeing as he lived in the city and buying a cricket bat and ball was for the privileged and was never able to afford one.

"Hm, all right I suppose it won't hurt if I try, as long as you can tell me the rules and how to play." Australia was quite unsure of the game, he was nervous to play it and scared he would do so terrible at it that they would both laugh at him.

"Hehe yeah won't hurt." Peter spoke under his breath but it was loud enough for Britain to hear before Britain elbowed him in the chest to be quiet.

With that Britain pulled out the stumps and placed them in the ground, far away from the camp but they were still able to see it. Britain wondered how the boy would be. Would he be a natural like he was with animals or would he be an utter failure?  
Peter and Britain gave the boy the rundown of the game. Australia looked quite confused for what was a 'run' or a 'wicket' but just simply nodded his head to everything that they told him the only thing he really understood was the fact that he would be batting first and Britain would be the bowler and Peter would be the wicket keeper whatever the hell that was and since they were low on players however far you hit it would consider on how many 'runs' you get.

Australia set up on the other side of the makeshift pitch with Peter standing behind him who was so close that he was breathing down his neck. With the bat he was now clutching to his hands he stood sideways facing the bat frontwards. Britain on the other hand was tossing the ball up and down spinning it as he threw it in the air once again; spinning the ball had always been his speciality since he was a spin bowler. He lined up opposite for where Australia was and began to estimate how he would go about delivering the ball. Of course he was going to go easy on the boy but he had to at least get his aiming right. Once he had configured the perfect delivery he had taken a few paces backwards in order to give himself a running start.

He ran up as fast as he could possibly could, throwing the ball with half of his usual speed for he wanted his first delivery to not end up with a casualty. Upon the ball leaving his hand it appeared time had slowed down. The ball approached the boy slow and steady as the ball bounced down three quarters of the pitch, a perfect delivery. The Brit wondered if the boy was even going to hit the ball or duck and cower as the ball came closer, but he held his ground and timed his swing. The ball hit the middle of the bat and was sent flying far over leg side. Over the top of Peter's head and landed on the outskirts of the makeshift field.

Jaws were left open and astounded the kid was yet again a natural. Britain was so surprised by the boy that he gasped in shock but quickly realised that he had and covered his hands over his mouth while Australia was still standing there confused. _Was that a good or a bad thing that he hit the ball that far and how many runs did he get?_ How it made his head spin in bewilderment.

"How many runs was that?" Australia spoke decided it was best to ask then to try and figure out the mess of information he had received from the pair.

"S-Si-Si-Six." Peter sad still baffled by the fact he even hit the ball. Peter had tried so many times himself whenever he had the chance to at the church but could never hit one.

"I will be the judge if it was mere luck. This time I am throwing the ball at full speed. Ok?" Britain said as he shook the shock out but clearly wanted to see if it was a matter of shear dumb luck.

So he threw the ball again, this time at full speed. The boy yet again hit it perfectly landing himself yet another 6.

They played until the sun had fully set to end yet another day. This night wasn't as warm as the night before. The wind had picked up and it was much cooler as the three laid side beside to increase body warmth over the cool night alongside with the blanket that was now wrapped over all three bodies but was slightly cut off on Britain's side just a tad. Just as they all had started to drift asleep Australia shifted his body so that he was lying on his back looking directly at the clouded night sky and said

"Tomorrow is my birthday. So I want it to be special." Australia said sleepily but he had wanted to tell them for the entire day and he had thought now would have been the perfect opportunity to tell them. Upon that Britain and Peter both rolled over on to their sides to both face Australia. While Britain gave a caring smile Peter spoke up no matter how tired he was he never ceased to talk.

"Well I guess we have to make it the best day ever then, huh?" Peter said as he gave a slight yawn. Britain and Australia nodded as all three drifted to sleep. Wondering what the new day and Australia's birthday would bring…

**A/N**

**Ok so I love cricket and I was super sad that England had lost the test match with Australia vs England. If England had won I would have made England win the little game but Australia won :( Oh well we will get you next time mwhaha.**

**So some History:**

**Cricket was invented in the 16th century but was not properly played until the 18th Century.**

**The animals I mentioned are natural Australian animals that are infact found no where but Australia.**

**So I'm done and I hope to write the next one on Australia day but if I don't Happy Birthday Australia for tomorrow! **


	8. NOTICE! KAMB will be unfinished

Hey Guys I am so sorry to leave it on a cliff hanger like that. I know I'm bad, but I lost interest in the story. But I promise I'll make it up to all of you guys! Suggestions for my next fanfic would be greatly appreciated. I am currently working on one now its a US/UK fic SHOCKER! No no I love my usxuk. So that will be up soon! Sorry I didn't finish I just got really bored of what I had planned for the story and uni is back so I am busy with all that shit! I am so so sorry!

Love always LK


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